Best Served Cold

“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” he said, still not looking at me.

“Neither did I.” I had no reason not to be honest. “In fact, I thought I’d turn around a moment ago.”

“So did I.”

I didn’t have a response to that. I knew he knew I was here.

“Sit?” he offered.

“I don’t know.” I shifted. “Do I have a reason to run away? Is there a serial killer in those trees? Am I going to be jumped if I sit down and lose my only route of escape?”

He laughed, dropping his head. “You have a broken toe. A snail could catch you right now.”

I hated that he was right.

“Shut up.” I sat down with a sigh and put my flip-flops to the side.

He finally turned to look at me. The moonlight glinted off his eyes, making the color of them almost ethereal. “How is your toe?”

“Better,” I answered. “I can walk now. It’s a miracle.”

“Good. I’m glad. How’s the store?”

“Painted. No thanks to Sophie and her purse on my bar counter.” I tucked my left foot under my right thigh, leaving that leg stretched out. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah…” He trailed off, then met my eyes with a small smile playing on his lips. “Would you believe it sounded way better in my head this afternoon? And now I have no fucking idea what to say to you?”

“A text half an hour ago would have solved this problem.”

“You’re such a smartass.”

“It keeps people on their toes.”

“I know. That’s why you’re here right now.” Chase blew out a long breath. “I didn’t think you’d read the letter.”

“I didn’t. I was coerced into it. Sophie read it and made all these faces like she was the lead in a fucking Broadway musical, and there you have it.” I leaned back on my hands. “She had me hooked.”

His laugh was gentle. “She’s a pain in the ass.”

“You’re not that far off being one yourself.”

“Neither are you.”

I side-eyed him. “Touché.”

He smiled.

“Are you going to tell me why you called me here when I have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn tomorrow or can I go home now?” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Because as lovely as the view is, I can see this without the stress any day I’d like.”

Any traces of amusement left his face, and his shoulders slumped forward along with his head. He rubbed his hands across the back of his neck, his fingers linking and unlinking as his hands moved together.

I wanted to be patient. I did. I was a lame-ass twenty-five-year-old—I was literally here right after my bedtime, so I was okay to leave. I didn’t even know why I was freaking here.

I waited another two minutes. The waves crashed against the beach, coming closer and closer to us. The surf was only a few minutes until it touched our feet, and if he wasn’t going to speak…

The sand sank beneath my fingers as I pushed up to standing. I paused only a second to grab my flip-flops before walking away.

“Rae, wait.”

I kept walking. I wanted to hear that he wanted me to stay. I wanted to hear that he did actually have something to say.

“Wait!”

“If you have something to say, Chase Aarons, give me a reason to wait!” I shouted over my shoulder. I kept walking. Kept wishing random stones didn’t hurt my toes.

Kept wishing he’d fucking want me to stop, because goddamn this shit. I was over it. He either had something to say or he left me the hell alone.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Raelynn! Will you put your stubborn bitch back up your ass and stop and fucking listen to me for five seconds?”

I stopped and spun on the spot. “Oh, look. There you are.”

He was barefoot as he stopped a few feet from me. “Do you know you’re fucking insufferable? You’re hot-headed and hard-headed and if you were trying to get a rise from me, then good for you, because you did it. You got what you wanted.”

“No. I didn’t get a damn thing I wanted!” I slammed my shoes onto the ground and stared at him. “You have no idea why I came here or what I want from you, because it sure as shit wasn’t the admission you stole all my ideas!”

“You want me to lie instead?” He threw his arms out to the side. “Is that what you want? You want me to lie to you and tell you I didn’t take your ideas and that I opened that store to spite you and ruin your life? Is that what you want to hear?”

My heart thundered. “What?”

“Everything you think I did wrong isn’t true. Do you really believe I’d do anything to deliberately hurt you?”

I swallowed and took a step back.

Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No.

“If you have something to say, say it,” I said, my voice wavering. My heart was going insane, and it took all I had on focusing on the basic in-out act of breathing. “Don’t beat around the bush, Chase. Spit it out.”